Brought Down to Scale
by Pewter SB
Summary: A Twist on a Recent interesting Trend. T for language


My story is an odd one. No, Odd doesn't quite cover the extremely strange, peculiar, abnormal, and overly out of the ordinary circumstances that befell me. It is a story that deserves to be in the "Twilight Zone," or at least, "Mystery Science Theater 3000." It is quite possibly James T. Kirk meets Han Solo, written by a Yaoi Fan girl. Um…strike out that last part, its not quite that odd.

Here, help yourself to some brain bleach while I begin my story.

I would not describe myself as a particularly peculiar person. I was what you would call nerdy. Now your average Hollywood description of the subspecies "nerd" is split into three maybe four Sub-categories; the Fat One, The Skinny Looser, The Hacker, and the extremely rare "Female Nerd". These are not entirely accurate of the Nerd populations, but they will work for now.

The closest that would apply to me is the Skinny Looser; somewhat weak, could loose a few pounds, very few friends, and a pretty good idea of many nerdy things. My particular specializations would be Aviation, History, Nuclear War, and Warhammer 40,000, with sub specializations in Video games and Star Wars Vs Star Trek. A very rounded Nerd profile, not too extreme in any one area.

I was your typical college student, going to class, and planning to major in Aviation Science: Commercial Pilot, or in commoners language, I wanted to fly the big airplanes. I went to work, and lived in my parents home to cut down on costs, not in their basement of course, but rather on the second floor.

The night previous to the start of a abnormal adventure, was by no way out of the ordinary. I had played a few videogames, done some homework, and posted a few comments on a forum. I said good night to my parents, totally unaware of the fact that it would be the last time. As I got ready for bed, I took a look outside at the stars. A beautiful night, and you could see plenty of stars. I was even treated with a Shooting star. I didn't wish on it, but part of men still. wonders if that falling piece of rock was responsible for this mess. I shut the blinds, laid down on my bed, and the darkness took me.

I woke slowly with some light striking my face, my instincts rolling me over to try and get a few more minutes of sleep. This action was stopped when my head connected with something hard and round. I rolled back the other way, my hand going to my head. I started to sit up, not quite knowing what was going on. I opened my eyes and looked down at what my head hit. I suspect my eyes must have been the size of dinner plates as I beheld a vintage World War One Brodie helmet.

It was like a steal bowl, with a broad rim, and a strap. From what I remembered, It was the standard metal helmet of the English army during world war one. I remember staring at that helmet for about a minute, as my mind try to process just how the hell a brodie helmet ended up on my bed.

I reached out to pick up the helmet when I noticed my sleeve was thicker, and Khaki. My pajamas were grey, not Khaki. My gazed flowed up my arm and to my body proper. My pajamas were completely gone, replaced with a Khaki Uniform. On my feet were a pair of black leather boots, and my calves were wrapped in some sort of cloth. On my hip was an empty holster. There was no insignia or flag sewn onto the uniform. My mind was reeling, how did I get in this uniform?

Of course it was a few moments later that the nerves in my rear end registered that what ever I was sitting on wasn't my bed. I quickly shifted my gaze from the uniform to my immediate surroundings, a white smooth surface. To my left was what looked like a couple of barrels, to my right was a huge blue cylinder. At the base of the cylinder was a crate.

In front of me though was what both got my attention and nearly broke my mind. It was a big black structure. It had a wide flat base, and a girder sticking up, connected to it by some sort of joint. I followed the girder up and saw another horizontal girder connected by another of those joints. At the end of that girder was a black, hollow, metal square, with a large glass bulb in the middle of it. Seeing the bulb told me what it was.

A god damn table lamp.

I quickly got to my feet, the helmet in my hands, I took a closer look at my surroundings. The "Barrels" on closer inspection, were bottles of model paint, one was labeled "Khaki". The Blue "Cylinder" had a telephone pole leaning out of the top, a Cup with a Brush. Oddly enough the Crate was just that, a crate, with "Open Me" on its side.

Of course my biggest shock was turning all the way around.

The white surface I was on went out for about a thirty or so feet, before it stopped. But the real sight was beyond the table edge, for what I saw assured me I was on one. I saw a fairly open room, at the opposite end was a cabinet with a television set on it. In front of it were a couple of bean bag chairs. Along the walls were a few shelves, and a single window, where the sun was shining through. Along opposite wall was a door way, and I could just see a single step. If I was at my normal height, this would have probably been a small basement.

Unfortunately, I was not my normal size. The vast space between the desk and the TV might as well have been the grand canyon if not bigger. The TV itself was a distant mountain. The window was big enough to fly a plane through it, and the stairs were like buildings.

I would have kept gazing at the incredible sight if I hadn't heard a small "Pop," behind me. I turned around to look for the source of the sound. I saw nothing out of place except for the Open me Crate. Its lid was slightly off. I cautiously approached it, and inspected it. The lid was half off, and not really think thoroughly, I pushed the lid the rest of the way. What can I say, my curiosity got the best of me.

Inside was a rifle, a revolver, and some sort of pack, all resting on sawdust. I set the helmet down on one of the corners, and gingerly picked up the Rifle, as being kind of a war nut, this got my immediate attention. It was a bolt action, and the wood stock ran the length of the barrel.

Some part of my mind told me it was a Lee-Enfield MK III, and it had a ten round magazine. I wondered for a few moments how exactly I knew that. While I knew a few things about WW1, the exact make and model of the British armies Standard Rifle was something I wasn't familiar with.

I shook my head and set the rifle down, leaning it against the crate. That was something I'd figure out later. I pulled out the Revolver, giving it a look over. Most revolvers are generally the same design, the same Six round cylinder, the same hammer, and generally the same barrel. But for some reason, its name came from the recesses of my mind, a Webly Revolver.

I absently mindedly put the Revolver in its holster, not putting as much thought as I should have. I never had handled a revolver before, let alone put one in a holster. But then and there I put it in there with one smooth motion. It was only after It was in the holster that my mind gave it any processing power. What ever was going on, was more than just my size.

I inspected the last piece of gear, the pack. It consisted of a wide belt, two shoulder straps and a small pack. It was made of some canvas like material, and had pouches all over. I opened some of the pouches, starting with the ones on the front. I found quite a few charger clips, each carrying five rounds. These were used to reload the Mk III, and by my count, there were three hundred rounds total split between the four ammo pouches. There was also a entrenching tool(Fancy word for shovel), a canteen, a Knife, a Bayonet(A bit redundant in this case), and a simple kit of metal dishes. One last thing to look in, the big pack.

I opened the pouch, and saw an bright neon orange envelope. On the front of it was "Do Not Open until you are Done." I put the note aside, and pulled out the sole item in the pack. It was a black cloth bundle, but the cloths texture was different. I unfolded it and gasped. It was my Black Trench Coat, one of my favorite garments, but…but How?

I noticed there was a green sticky note on the coat, this was in the same gold lettering as the envelope. "Now that you are done, put your coat away and I'll explain."

I was bewildered at the directness of this note. But as I reached out to pull it off, it disappeared with a pop! I held that coat for two minutes as the cogs in my mind turned. Finally, I folded the coat reverently and put it back in its pack. I then picked up the Orange envelope, the golden words changed to say "Open Me."

"Timed to get to the bottom of this," I muttered to myself.

I opened the flap, and pulled out a black piece of paper. I unfolded it and saw the golden print that was used on the envelope, the sticky note and the crate. Without much ado, I began to read the note.

_Hello Marcus,_

_You are wondering why you are here, and probably just where "Here" is. I'm not going to ruin any surprises for you, but this is a chance for you to have a "BIG" adventure. He-he, I love irony._

_But you probably have another two questions, both that I will answer. First, I am a Random Omnipotent Being, but you can call me ROB. As for you second question, How do you know about these different small details, things you didn't know about before. I inserted them into your subconscious, and will come to mind when you are using something. The fields of information apply only to a certain number of things, mainly things from the First World War, but you will find them useful._

_And for your final question, Why?_

_Because I am Bored, and Because I Can._

_Good Luck, ROB._

_P.S. Look out for the Scarab._

As I finished reading the note, it disintegrated, its dust falling to the table top. I thought over what the note said.

Now I knew about ROBs, the forum I went to used them as an excuse to create odd scenarios, or to hand wave certain problems away. Basically, " A Wizard Did it." And they also had an annoying habit of being Assholes. What ever ROB was throwing me at probably wouldn't be to healthy for me.

As for the insta-knowledge thing, that could be useful. And considering how much ammo I had, I would probably use that knowledge a lot.

But that last bit had me confused, watch out for the scarab? Was he talking about some kind of bug?

I shrugged, put the pack on my back, donned the helmet, and grabbed my rifle. First things first, I had to get off this table. I start walking over to the edge, and when I got there, I looked down.

Bad mistake. You see, I have a fear of heights. This fear doesn't affect me when I'm flying a plane, but when your plane has an eleven to one glide ratio, there is not much to fear. It's the situations I can't control that get to me. And the drop from the table to the ground would have been like jumping off a cliff. There was no way I was going to survive it.

I turned back to see if the Crate had anything for repelling, but the damnable box had disappeared. Damn that ROB. Then I noticed something, make that many something's. I don't know how I had missed them earlier, perhaps the ROB just dropped them there, or more likely, the cup hid them from my view. In a line was various WW1 era vehicles. Closest to me were scale tanks, the very first to be used in history. There were the British Mark 1 and Whippet medium tanks, and the massive German A7V. Next to them were Scale Biplanes and WW1 Bombers. Beyond those were vehicles that were gargantuan.

I started to walk towards them, beginning to Identify some of the "Super heavies." One I could Identify right off the bat, the Tsar tank with its ridiculous Tricycle design, except it was bigger than it ought to be. Another easily identifiable one was the Zeppelin, which was at the end of the line. With its Comparably massive form, and the large German cross, it was hard to miss. But it looked like it had a few cannon emplacements on it, and I couldn't recall them having those. One looked like a Railway Gun, a naval cannon on a railway car. The next looked like the thing that probably pulled the Rail gun, a massive armored train, bristling with guns. The last was more unidentifiable, It looked like the Rail Gun and a Tank had a baby, One massive gun, and two sponsons.

I also noticed as I came closer a few different artillery pieces, namely cannons and machine guns from both sides of WW1. They seemed to have a few ammo boxes nearby each. Interesting, but useless right now.

I formulated my escape off the table top, my mind going over the cons and pros of each of the vehicles. The tanks were probably out, because all but the whippet would need more than one to operate. The Bombers were out as well, but the Bi-planes could work. As the thoughts bounced around in my head, I found myself thinking, even if I didn't find anything, I would have a lot of firepower under my control.

All these thoughts though, were shattered by the crack of a rifle.

* * *

**All Reviews, Comments, Criticism, Sugestions, And Speculations are welcome.**

**Due to its location, You will note that yes I do intend to bring in 40k stuff ala ToyHammer(There will be differences I swear!) But Not just 40k stuff, but others, whom I shan't spoil just yet.**

**As for the Inspiration for the World War 1 stuff? X-Box arcade has this lovely little game called Toy Soldiers. WW1 themed and a fun twist on tower defense. The "Super Heavies" are the Games Bosses. They could be considered the counter to most of the future weapons Marcus and ****Censored, ****Will face. As I could imagine a shell coming from the scale version of Big Bertha or Dora would ruin anyone's day. :3**


End file.
